Rookie
by DarkVoid116
Summary: Sometimes friendship manifests itself in drinking at Willy's. Other times it shows itself through a game of chess between former mortal enemies.


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plots are mine. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by Ree, Zab Jade, bewildered

Happy birthday, Kanotari.

* * *

 **Rookie**

Waking up on the top of a sarcophagus was one experience you couldn't mistake. After a century of mayhem across the globe, Spike had enough mornings waking up atop one to know what it felt like.

That was why, when he woke up, he immediately knew he wasn't in the downstairs of the crypt, lying across his bed like he should've been. His soddin' head was throbbing with a hangover, though.

He rubbed his temples in a failed attempt to make the pain go away. He could remember everything, but had still drunk a tad more than he should've. Spike shook his head from side to side, willing away the dreariness and sleep. Once his head cleared, the vamp realized he needed to seek out the Summers girls. He was pretty sure the Slayer was fine, probably a bit hung over, but otherwise in fine shape, but she was also still a bloody mess after what her friends did to her.

Not to mention whatever the flying fuck yesterday had been about. Spike still didn't know how she'd had a repeating hour, or how her construction job with Harris had gone so carrot-top. The demon they'd encountered near the van after everything had been bizarre as well. He'd never seen anything quite like that, not in all his years travelling alongside Dru.

Once he dressed, Spike cleared out of the crypt, heading towards Revello Drive. It didn't take him long to take sewer access to get close, and within twenty minutes he tumbled through the back door of Buffy's house.

"Spike!" Niblet exclaimed upon seeing him. He hadn't even completely removed the smoking blanket from his head, but it still made him a little warmer to see Dawn's big smile; she reserved it just for him, too.

"'Lo, Bit," he said. "Where's Buffy?" He didn't beat around the bush, though he did soften his voice while speaking with her. He leaned against the kitchen cabinets, relaxing.

"She's upstairs," Bit sniffed. "She's been a little weepy this morning. Oh, and sick. What'd you guys do yesterday, anyway?"

"Nothin' your sis would want me talking to you about," replied Spike.

"That's what she told me, too!" Dawn complained, exasperated. "How come nobody tells me anything? I know you and Buffy have some secret. She's been so secretive since getting back!"

Spike sighed. Buffy would tell her kid sis when she was ready. He still didn't bloody understand why she'd told _him_ of all people. Things were changing between the two of them, he knew, but he didn't have the foggiest clue what the result would be when they came out the other side.

"You gotta give her some time, Niblet. Look, I _know_ you're right worried, and I'm sure Buffy 'preciates it, but she needs time and space, too," he explained gently.

Dawn pouted at his words, her expression simultaneously understanding and crestfallen. "How _much_ though, Spike? I'm trying to give her time! All the time! But it's hard!" she whined, sounding very much her youthful age.

"Dunno, Bit. Let her come to you." When he finished, he heard footsteps on the upper level. He shushed Dawn's response. "Buffy's coming downstairs," he said by way of explanation at her offended look.

When the Slayer came around the corner and saw him in the doorway, she raised her eyebrows in question. Spike motioned for Dawn to let them be, which the teen did with minimal complaint.

"What are you doing here, Spike?"

Oh, how he wished he could soothe the pain he heard in her voice. It was so clear. How could her bloody friends not hear it?

How fucking stupid was Willow to raise her from the dead without checking, anyway? He knew Red could be right careless with dark magic, but this took the cake.

When he realized he'd lost himself in his internal rant, he offered Buffy a small smile. "Just wanted to check on you, luv. I was a little worried after how sloshed you got last night." He kept his voice subdued, waiting to see how she acted. Yeah, they had gotten along last night, but he knew not to push his luck. A century with Dru taught him not to count his chickens before they hatched, time and time again.

"I'm fine. Thanks for checking," she said, the gratitude appearing genuine. He could still see some trepidation in her eyes, but she seemed to be softening her attitude towards him. It gave him a crumb, which he hadn't had any of in awhile.

"Bit said you were looking happy. What happened?"

A genuine, real smile broke out across her face. It was right nice to see. "Giles gave me a check," she said. "I won't have to worry as much about money and all."

"That's great, luv," responded Spike. "How much did Rupes give?"

"It's more than enough to hold me over while I look for a job," Buffy answered. "Giles says social services will probably want me to have a job, so I still need one." She looked despondent at the last part.

Spike really hated seeing a look of despair like that on his Slayer's face. It didn't match with the joy he remembered in her when they first met. "Happy for you, Slayer."

"Spike," she started. She hesitated, her eyes to the ground. "Can we talk about yesterday? I'm super sorry for being, well, drunk Buffy. At least I wasn't Cave Buffy," she finished with a small laugh. She was bloody nervous! Adorable, too. It gave him renewed hope that they could have something between them.

"Don't worry about it. The construction shit and the neverending hour really messed you up, Slayer. You needed to get right hammered," Spike allowed.

"Can we just forget it? I needed that, but I don't think I should do that too often," Buffy explained. Spike knew from her next words that she hadn't missed when his face fell before he collected himself. "I really am thankful for what you did yesterday."

"You don't need to say that for my benefit, pet." His emotions were plainly evident in his expression. He knew he couldn't hide how discouraged her words made him if he tried.

"Dammit," Buffy exclaimed. "You know words and Buffy are unmixy. I'm _trying_ to thank you for being good to me lately. I know I've been all Depresso Buffy lately, and you've been helping bring some normal to my life."

Spike decided that he wouldn't be a selfish wanker right then and there. She might be failing, but she was at least trying to be less Bitchy Buffy. "Sorry, Slayer." He'd take what he could get.

"Don't apologize, Spike. You deserve some kindness right now. You helped the gang care for Dawn all summer. You didn't know they were gonna resurrect me."

Spike flushed, embarrassed. He wasn't used to praise from the women he loved, even from Dru. He was, however, bloody good at mucking things up. "I don't deserve your kindness, luv. I'm also the reason you had to jump."

"No!" Her protest was vehement and immediate. "You tried to _save_ Dawn. You kept your promise."

"She's right, Spike," a voice sounded from the entryway. Niblet was standing there, arms crossed, looking smug. "You watched over me the whole summer when nobody gave a damn."

He could see Buffy flinch at her sister's words and the light they painted her friends in.

"Dawn, don't talk about our friends like that," Buffy snapped, though with minimal bite to her words. She sounded at her wits end, tired.

"Why not? They're _your_ friends," Bit fired back. "They went about their busy lives without caring about me. They spent all of the money Mom left us while living here for free! Then they brought you back, and you don't even wanna be here!" Her rant over, Dawn stood there, eyes blazing.

"Don't talk to your sister that way, Bit," Spike angrily retorted. "You don't know what happened -"

"Spike," the Slayer interjected softly. "Drop it. Let's do something else or talk about something else, please."

The pleading tone convinced Spike as much as anything else. "Fine," he gritted out. "What do you want to do?" he said, looking down at Buffy.

"Let's play chess," suggested Dawn randomly. "I remember you telling me you always wanted to learn, Buffy." Bit glanced sidelong at Buffy for the last part.

"Slayer, you don't know how to play bloody chess?" Spike asked incredulously.

"Mom never had the time to teach me. Plus, strategy and Buffy? Not very mixy. Well, unless the strategy is sticking a stake through the heart, I guess."

Spike gave a hearty chuckle. Was nice to see the Slayer make a joke, be more herself.

"I'll teach you, luv," he offered. "We can play some chess, the three of us."

"A-alright," agreed Buffy hesitantly. Dawn disappeared to go get their chess set, leaving the pair in slightly uncomfortable silence. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to, Spike," Buffy finally said after a few minutes.

Spike looked at her uncertain face, unsure how to say that there was nothing he'd rather be doing. She seemed to get the message when she looked away from his unwavering gaze. "Slayer, I'll probably bugger this all at some point. While it lasts, I'm going to spend all my soddin' time here with you and Bit."

Said Bit came scampering back into the room at that very moment, the chess box tucked away neatly under her arm. She rested the game on the island before turning to face them. "Where do you want to do this?"

"Dining room is probably best," Buffy said.

Spike trailed behind her, admiring the way her outfit stuck to her arse. He diverted his eyes upward when Buffy glanced backward. Wouldn't do for the Slayer to catch him ogling her. When Buffy pulled out a chair, at the dining room table, Spike followed suit and reached for seats for both himself and Bit.

"How do you wanna do this, Spike?" Bit asked, her lips quirked into a smile as she pulled the chess board out of its box and displayed the pieces.

"What do you know about chess, luv? Anything at all?" Spike glanced surreptitiously at her, surprised to see her eyebrow furrowed and her gaze staring at the table.

"Nothing at all," she said quietly. "So you'll have to get with the 'splainy."

Where to even start? Chess was bloody complicated. The Slayer wasn't exactly Einstein, either, so he needed to put this shit in simpler terms for the chit. Something she'd get. Like battle.

Which gave him a brilliant idea.

"Alright, pet. I think I know how I can teach you. Everything in chess can be related to the battlefield, so we'll start there."

"This is gonna be fun," Bit muttered, rolling her eyes. She leaned back in her chair, watching.

"There's six pieces in chess," he began. "Pawn, Rook, Knight, Bishop, King and Queen. Each of them does something different. Take the pawn; you could move one space ahead, or two, on the first turn. Following so far, luv?" He looked at Buffy, taking notice of how she stared straight at the board, gazing blankly at it.

"Kinda. So, what do the others do?" she asked. The Slayer was bloody adorable when she tried to concentrate. She'd scrunch up her face and pout a little.

"Let's focus more on the pawn, first, Buffy. A pawn is like a minion for a vampire, in a way. They're the first line of defense in chess and protect the rest of your pieces. They're expendable." As he explained the rules, the vamp inched his hand closer to Buffy. He tried to be very delicate with her these days, a stark contrast to the warrior she was. "Each player starts with eight pawns, two rooks, two bishops, two knights, a king and a queen. The eight pawns start out directly in front of the other eight pieces."

"All of the chess pieces begin at the back of the board, right, Spike?" Dawn interrupted, apparently eager to help.

"Right, Bit," he praised. "Any questions so far, Slayer?" He turned his eyes back to the woman he loved, finding her expression befuddled. A thinker, his Slayer was not. But the bird was an elite warrior, and beat bloody Angelus - not to mention Mr. Bits and Parts. He needed to appeal to the strategist within her.

"I don't get the minion thing."

"Let me put it another way, pet. Pawns in chess are basically things that the player uses to further their strategy. They're like those scabby berks that Glory had last year," he explained, then mentally scolded himself for bringing up Glory when Buffy's expression closed off and became guarded. _Bloody git you are, Spike!_

To his shock, Buffy pursed her lips in thought rather than knock him into next week. "Okay," she finally said, voice low. "I think I get it."

Well.

The Slayer could surprise him, still. Right confusing, she was. "Well then. That's a bit of alright. Ready for more?"

On her nod, he demonstrated how to move the pawn by placing one on the board and sliding it forward one, then two spaces. "That's how all the pawns move. They can also move diagonally if the opposing team has a piece adjacent along a diagonal. If you do that, then you capture your opponent's piece, which is the point to the bloody game. Object of the game is to trap the king."

"That makes sense," Buffy said, nodding.

"Just like when you're fighting a vampire, you want to be predicting where your opponent is going to strike and preempt it. Each piece can move differently. The rook can move multiple spaces in a straight line, but can't go diagonally. The knight can move in a pattern similar to the letter 'L'," Spike continued explaining. He flicked his tongue across his lower lip when he saw Buffy's lips part. She was in deep thought, considering all of his words. She was soddin' gorgeous. The thought just kept returning to the forefront of his traitorous brain every time he looked up. Was better to just keep explaining chess, then.

"Spike," Bit said right when he opened his mouth to continue the explanation. "Why don't we play a game of chess now? You can be with Buffy on her team and face me. You can help her play. She'll learn better with practice; she always does."

Bit had a point there. His Slayer was a very hands-on type of learner. It was worth a go, at least. "Alright. We'll be white," he decided. Buffy looked like she was reluctantly accepting their joint decision, probably more brassed off that they decided without consulting her than anything else. Spike scooted his chair around to the head of the table, flush next to Buffy's. He wanted to mostly let Buffy try on her own - it wouldn't do to hold her hand; she'd just get pissed - and just offer help if necessary.

'Course, that'd have been easier had the Slayer not tried to move the bishop on the first turn and caused Dawn to yell.

* * *

Standing on the side - or sitting, as the case may be - and watching a game of chess was fucking boring. That was the main thought percolating through Spike's brain as he watched the Summers sisters exchange turns. Buffy was still struggling to understand all the rules; he'd even tried having her treat the chess pieces as an extension of herself the way she would with a stake in battle, but that didn't work. The chit had just laughed off his attempt at help, saying she couldn't make that work. Bloody frustrating, she was.

In the end, it was actually Buffy making a ridiculous, punny connection that helped clear the game up for her. She'd made a joke about how all she bloody wanted to do - though of course Miss Right-and-Proper didn't cuss - was go straight ahead every turn. She was just offhandedly complaining about the complex ways the chess pieces could move, but Spike decided to take it literally and said, "Like the rook," just as the Slayer commented about how she was such a rookie at chess.

The bird had finally found _that_ nonsensical connection to be the way she could remember what the rook did, and from there the rest of the pieces began to fall into place. She was still a beginner, but at least now she could pretend she knew sound strategy.

Dawn was winning - expected, to be sure - but Buffy had a few moves she could make to turn the tables. Spike observed the board, seeing a few possible moves. "Slayer, don't forget that you need to consider all the possible routes your opponent can attack from," he said, still using the war metaphor that worked so well for her.

She was in Slayer-lite-mode, and it was bloody poetry in motion to watch, even in the dining room at her home. Her focus was incredible to watch. He could see the wheels grinding in her brain as she considered her options, and recognized the exact moment the chit decided what to do. She chose well, putting Dawn on the defensive. He could see two possible avenues for her to win within two turns and hoped Bit would make one of them plausible.

When a turn later Buffy had a chance to move a knight into position for checkmate, Spike grinned when she actually made the right call. "Checkmate," Buffy said, all smiles. She was having _fun_ \- and winning. It was right nice to see. Between the drinking last night and chess today, Spike could see the tides changing in her attitude. She was a little lighter, happier.

Bit got up, muttering under her breath as she vacated the dining room. Buffy stared at Spike once she was gone, her eyes expressive. He could tell she wanted to say something; it was on the tip of her oh-so-delectable tongue.

Thinking about her tongue made him remember the few random kisses they'd - mostly - accidentally shared. The series of kisses under the spell and the soft kiss she'd gifted him with when he kept Bit's secret were moments he treasured - his crumbs. They kept him going when she was gone; well, that and caring for Niblet when the bloody Scoobies abandoned her. Those memories blended together in his mind with the recent memories he'd made with the Slayer and together gave him real hope that if he didn't bugger it all up he could build something with Buffy.

Like playing bloody chess and spending time with her.

And maybe playing more soddin' chess, if he read what she was about to ask right.

"What are you thinking about, Spike?" she asked instead.

He knew answering with the truth was a one-way ticket to Kick-the-Spike Land. But, he responded with it anyway. "Thinking 'bout you, pet." Well, he answered with part of the truth anyway. It was worth it to see Buffy Summers, Miss Stake-Up-Her-Arse, blush under his scrutiny. His eyes darkened when he looked at her flushed face. She was so fucking cute, all the time. He had it right bad with this girl.

"Oh," she said softly. "Didya see me slice and dice my way through Dawn's king and queen, Spike? I won!"

"That you did, Slayer," he said. "Bit made some mistakes, though. She left herself open to the bishop and the knight on a few occasions. Won't make that mistake. I'm better."

Buffy took that as a challenge, apparently, and smirked. "Care to test that theory, Vampire?"

So now she was mocking him calling her Slayer, was she? "Got yourself a game, Slayer."

* * *

Was pretty sure he had the Slayer in a situation she couldn't get out of now. She'd backed herself into the right corner of her section and had already lost both her bishops, both her nights, five of the eight pawns, her queen and one of her rooks, leaving her with just three pawns, a rook and the king. The soddin' rook had blocked his every move the last few turns, protecting that king. Was right annoying, it was. With Buffy's king and rook and his queen and rook forming an upside-down 'J' formation, he knew he had her. So he slide the queen diagonally up the stem of the 'J' and captured the rook, leaving his queen one space in front of the king and his rook two spaces left of his queen. "Checkmate," he said.

Buffy scowled at that. He saw her eyes scanning the board, looking for any bleedin' escape route. 'Course, there were none. He'd made it so any space the king moved to, the queen could still capture it, and if the king took out his queen, the rook still had it checked. "Fine. You win," she finally conceded. She captured his queen and he followed suit by using the rook to end the game.

"Good game, Slayer. You learned really fast," Spike complimented her as he shoveled all the pieces together to ease with clean up. They had empty clear plastic bags that all the pieces would be put into, separated by color.

"You still beat me, Spike," the Slayer bemoaned. "Guess you are better than Dawnie."

"Well, yeah. I am. But that doesn't mean anything, luv. You learned quickly, and you had a lot of fun. Good day, innit?"

She let out a small laugh at that, a radiant smile stretched across her lips. She was soddin' _happy_ and he was the one to make her that way. It almost made his undead heart skip a beat. So of course he had to go and bugger it all up. "This is the happiest I've seen you since you've been back, luv. You look like you're glowing." In his mind, he thought he was just heaping praise on the woman he loved with all his unlife. Later he'd realize that it sounded right depressing, the way he worded it.

Buffy's face fell and he could physically see when pain when her increased tenfold as she closed herself off. She winced once - he wouldn't have noticed it without a Slayer-trained-eye - and looked away quickly. A few small gulps shot down her throat. The mood had evaporated, and all he wanted was to go back to thirty seconds ago, when his love had been so happy and full of life.

"Buffy, luv, I'm sor-," he began.

"Don't," she cut him off. "I got too comfortable talking with you. That's my fault. I need to remember you're still you."

"Buffy," he tried again, only to be interrupted a second time.

"Not done yet, Spike," she said, sounding as tired as he suddenly felt. "This chess, this playing a game and stuff, it really helped me just, I don't know, forget for a little bit, sorta. But this isn't normal. I wouldn't have done this before I jumped."

"Slayer, you don't have to do everything the way you did before the tower. Nobody should expect that, even if your bloody bastards of friends don't get that. You were in fucking heaven. You don't need to be grateful to them." He hadn't meant to curse, but Buffy didn't seem offended. She was looking straight ahead, deep in thought. What he would give to know what was going through her mind.

"Of course you'd think that. Why shouldn't I just go back to how things were? I'm alive, Giles and Xander and Willow and Dawnie are here and alive, and Glory's gone. Everything is peachy keen."

Spike just shook his head. He admired how strong she was - it was one reason he loved her - but she was so bloody stubborn. She didn't need to keep up the facade when around him. Oh, how he wished she'd let her walls down even more around him. Not that she hadn't at all - just the fact that she got sloshed with him spoke volumes. "It's okay to be yourself and not try to live up to their bloody expectations, Slayer. Everyone is going to want different things from you. It's like soddin' tug of war. You're the Slayer. Why do you let them do this to you?"

"They're my friends, Spike," she said, as if that explained everything. He just couldn't understand why she put up with everything they did. If he did a quarter of the shit they'd put her through recently, he'd have been staked proper already.

"Friends can do evil things, pet. Good people can do evil things. You can be mad about what they've done to you and yours while still loving them," Spike explained. "Look at how Harris treats his bird. She doesn't deserve the scorn she gets from him. If he doesn't like her the way she is, he shouldn't be with her." He had a lot more to add, but didn't want to rock the boat. Right now, Buffy was considering everything he said with a seemingly open mind.

"Why did she have to bring me back, Spike? I was so _happy_ there. I died twice for this town, this world. I was at peace. Why bring me back?"

He'd never wanted to rip out Red's intestines more than that moment. "They were selfish gits, luv. They needed you. Red should've checked where you were. Bloody irresponsible, that," he grumbled. "Bit missed you, but she could've gone on living, for you. The Watcher missed you too, but both of them knew not to mess with the dark magics to bring you back. I'd've ripped this world apart if I thought I could bring you back the way you were before, but magic like that has consequences. We best hope Red didn't bugger this up."

As had been the case for the majority of the day thus far, Buffy slipped into a contemplative pose, considering his words. She looked like she was having a bloody time of it. "Why have you started being good?"

Huh?

The question took Spike by surprise. He didn't know what part of their conversation has spurred this train of thought. He racked his brain, going over his words, and didn't even realize he'd ignored her until she offered a soft, "Spike?" which brought his eyes back to her.

"'M not good, luv. I'm just a tad less evil than I used to be. And you know why. I fell in love with you."

He expected her to flinch back at the reminder he loved her, but instead she smiled softly. It was right confusing. She might've been the brightest light in the world, but she was the hardest puzzle in it, too.

"How can you love without a soul? Angel couldn't love me when he lost his soul. You say you fell in love with me, but you don't have a soul. I don't get it."

"I dunno. I've always been this way. Angelus used to always say that Drusilla might've been too batshit to turn me properly. It would make sense. I've always been more human than other vamps. I care about Dru, didn't outright bloody hate Harm, and fell in love with you. Besides, do you even know what the soul _does_? Bloody Angel tells you it's the difference between being good and being bad, and all you Scoobies just believed that," Spike ranted. "Angelus is an evil, conniving bastard who deserves to rot for what he did to Dru, but all the soul did was make him feel guilt for those he killed. Beneath it all, he's still the same asshole he always was."

He expected her to vehemently protest his words on Angel. She seemed upset, but not the way he'd thought. "I saw Angel," she revealed, which he actually already knew. Vamp smell and all. "I still love him, but we're not in each other's worlds anymore. He's got his life in LA now. Now that I've had some space, I can see a little of what you mean. I still think he's good, though."

Even that much was a bloody wonderful admission from her. "I don't think he's evil when souled up, pet. Just a bleedin' asshole."

"You guys really don't like each other," she observed. Went without saying.

"I hate the wanker. You know that," Spike said.

"Let's stop talking about him, then," she said, offering a small smile.

"Thanks ever so for the thought," he snarked back with a little bite. "What do you want to do then, Slayer?"

"If you're not a friend right now, you're playing the part of one, at least. So do you want to help cook dinner and stay for it?"

"I don't eat much human food, pet. You know that."

"I'll make wings."

"Damn. You got me there. You know the way to my heart, Slayer," Spike teased.

"I own your heart, Vampire," Buffy said, grinning a little. She looked lighter than she had in awhile. "Checkmate."

* * *

Thanks for reading!


End file.
